Chapter Text
[November 1891]
The Penitentiary in Siamara
Dearest,
I am certain I am all but a fool in matters that concern you. Your people killed my people, they killed my family in front of my eyes, and here I am, still writing to you, still thinking of you, and still seeking ways with which I could have you here next to me. My cellmate, a young man from the village next to mine, tells me I have gone mad. He tells me you are just as much to blame as your brother is, and that I must forget all about you with the light of the next day.
But my love, you are well too embedded in my soul for me to even think of leaving you be. My mind screams at me to move past all this though, let go of you and all the times you wrenched my heart from its alcove in my chest and tore it apart.
There is, however, as much cowardice as there is love for you in my being. I cannot bear the sight of you falling apart in front of me when I know all too well that I could gather you in my arms for a moment and everything would be alright again. The world would start spinning again, the sun would shine each morning, and the moon would rise in all its paradisical grandeur. The stars would burn, the birds would hum, and we would both be able to breathe again.
It'd be the birth of spring, each field dancing with rows and rows of flowers, each of them vibrant and full of life. But what about me? What about the never-ending melancholy that tugs at each fiber of my being? What about the hours I foolishly devoted to weeping to the thoughts of you?
The flowers you brought died rotting when you left. These days, their stems creep onto me. Tight and sharp, they seem to be choking me. The sight of the once-celestial heap does not bring me joy anymore. It brings me a ceaseless stream of sorrow, a thick and bleak fluid that runs all over the flowers of my past. It pools in my mouth, frothing until it overflows. It is bitter, the taste of it. I don't like it. I don't.
Each day, I am reminded of how you left, uncaring of the burdens I bore, of the weights I wore since long before I even met you. I wonder now why I came running to your door when you just glimpsed through the closed windows of my home. I wonder why I care so much about the burdens you bear and the weights you wear. As time stretches its fabric, I am afraid I will see my reflection on the surface of your closed door again.
I am afraid the flowers will rot themselves to their core, and I will ask again: what about me?
I'd owe myself the biggest apology this time about. But right now, please just let me gather you in my arms until the moon rises and the stars burn.
Yours Sincerely,
L.
✦
[Age: 7]
Li Ming hated summers. Not only did he have to endure the smoldering heat of the sun beating down his neck while he did his chores but he also had to help his uncle around with enrollments of newcomers into his school and prepare for their accomodations. His uncle ran a well-renowned school for teaching combat and other forms of…. well, hostilities that could facilitate enough bloodshed to fill a river, if and when required.
The academy had students coming from all across the world, from Crowned Princes of Kingdoms to Earls of humongous estates. This summer, though, the second heir to the throne of Siamara was arriving in their quaint, little village. Siamara was their neighboring Kingdom, with rolling fields of land that never quite seemed to end, and a surprisingly satisfied population – three-quarters of whom had never seen destitution in their entire lives. Li Ming had already heard a lot about the heir to the throne, Noppharat, also known as North by his loved ones.
North, just at the age of ten, had achieved things Li Ming wouldn’t dare dream to achieve in his whole life. He was a skilled fighter, having specialized in enough forms of hand-to-hand as well as armed combat to give even a fully competent adult a run for their money. He was also fluent in over ten languages and liked to paint in his free time. And as if all these competencies weren’t enough for the young Prince, North was also an adept horseracer with more than ten recognized championship titles under his name.
While the first Prince was lauded by many all across the world, hardly anyone knew about the second Prince. Li Ming believed the lack of information on him came more from purposefully sheltering him rather than the Prince being an inept regal.
And that disposition was proven correct when he first saw him standing among the crowd of other newcomers, standing sullenly in line with his hands clutched tightly around the handle of his sword. His uncle was speaking, instructing his students about what to expect from their new training regime but the boy hardly paid him any mind, his squinted gaze surveying the bed of yellow tulips Li Ming had grown outside the compound with the help of his uncle.
The boy stormed off from the compound as soon as his uncle was done speaking, shouldering past a young man on his way out, who was equally left as stunned as Li Ming by his actions. The man didn’t waste another second before he ran behind the boy, picking him up in his arms before the boy could cause any more havoc by possibly running away from there.
Later in the day, during supper, Li Ming would get to know the boy’s name. Heart, his name was. His uncle told him how an unknown illness had caused the Prince to lose his hearing, and how he was sent away by his father to get more groomed in matters that concerned his survival, without much thought on how he’d scrape by in a new place with the very obvious communication barrier in place. Uncle Jim also told him how Heart wasn’t going to stay at the academy, but rather at the vacation estate his father owned by the edge of the woods.
Li Ming knew of the extravagant property that existed in their village only because of the familial bond the monarchs of the two Kingdoms shared. It was supposed to be a vacation house, but it had been rarely treated like one all these years.
The following day, Li Ming woke up with determination coursing through his veins. He would catch Heart after breakfast and attempt to befriend him, perhaps. He imagined how lonely he would have felt had his uncle, too, abandoned him like his parents – or worse, shipped him off to a completely new territory with nothing but a chaperone to accompany him. It would’ve broken him completely, maybe even caused him a heartbreak big enough that he would have gone off the rails.
In retrospect, as he shoveled a spoonful of porridge into his mouth, he supposed he would not have gone deranged. If anything, a little screaming here and there into complete darkness as he broke down into heart-wrenching sobs would have sufficed for his uncle to have a change of heart.
He quickly finished his breakfast with Praew, the partner of one of his uncle’s apprentices, in the kitchen. He got along well with her, he liked to believe she was the only sensible person in this house – and she also took on the job of teaching literature to the older children who studied at his uncle’s academy.
She had been introducing him bit by bit to her passion, and so far, only the tiny poems had piqued his interest. The other literary pieces were a tad mind-numbing; he could take only so much metaphorical writing!
He rushed up the stairs to Praew’s room after ensuring she was preoccupied with the bowl of porridge he had accidentally spilled. As fast as he could, he picked up a neat piece of parchment from her stack and a sharpened piece of charcoal. He stuffed both items into his waistband before leaving the room, picking up a tangerine from the now-vacant kitchen on his way out.
The sun was harsh on his skin as he traversed through the terrains that led to the woods. Thankfully, he wasn’t required at the compound today for any sort of help as the students were still settling into their new living conditions – something obviously below par with what they were used to.
He was standing in front of the imposing iron gates in no time, staring up at the tall structure as he strained his brain, trying to come up with ways he could get inside without attracting any unwanted attention. He pondered over whether or not jumping over the large walls of the estate would be a plausible option. Probably not, considering they were almost as tall as all the old, stocky trees in the woods and Li Ming was quite short – of course, because he had yet to hit his growth spurt, it was not anything genetic.
Discarding the idea just as quickly, he went near the gates, peeking inside through the small gaps that the entrance provided. He staggered backwards when met with the sight of two brawny men standing just a few meters away from the gates, exchanging words that didn’t quite reach his ears with scary scowls etched across their faces.
Dejected, with his shoulders slumped, he slunk off towards the woods. He could always eat the tangerine by the river, watch the birds hum, and do….. nothing. Who was he kidding? He’d be better off going home. But if he went home right now, his uncle would probably rope him into doing some work for the academy.
The tangerine, and the river, and the birds sounded much, much better.
And so, he set off, with no real aim in mind. He stopped on his way once to pluck a flower from a coil of wildflowers near the bushes, but other than that, his journey was quite uneventful. By the time he reached the peripheries of the river, his tunic was sticking a little to his back and his throat felt as dry as sandpaper.
He stopped in his steps when he caught the sight of a lone figure sitting on a boulder by the banks of the river. “Oi! That’s my rock, get down from there!” He yelled out, marching forward with purpose heavy in his steps. The boy didn’t react whatsoever to his command. He didn’t even bother to acknowledge his presence! How rude!
“Are you deaf? I told you to get down from here.” The more he was ignored, the more anger he felt rushing through his body. Fists clenched tightly by his side, he rounded the boulder to get in front of the boy, ready to give him a piece of his mind, maybe even give him a lesson or two on basic courtesy.
“‘S you! You are deaf.” He mumbled to himself, eyes wide with realization. The anger that had been simmering beneath his flesh waned off to mere embers, its intensity all but a puerile joke at this point.
Heart was staring at him with rounded eyes, confused with a gaze so redolent of a doe. Almost as if just reminded of the purpose he had woken up with today, Li Ming turned on his heels, taking out the rolled piece of parchment from his waistband. He crouched down on the ground, placing the paper on the serrated surface of the boulder to smoothen down the crinkles that marred its expanse.
Placing his tangerine and the frail flower he had picked up from the bushes on the ground, he hunched over the crumpled piece of paper to scribble a greeting.
Are you Heart? I am Li Ming ツ
Heart stared at him and his outstretched hand for a good minute, his mouth twisted in a scowl but made no further move to address him. Li Ming retracted his hand back with a frown after a minute or so, hastily adding a question below what he had written previously.
“Do you want to be my friend?”
Heart, surprisingly, took the paper from his hand this time about before Li Ming could even offer it up to him. And then, the stick of charcoal was gone from his hands just as quickly, too. For a minute, Li Ming stared at the boy in front of him, stupefied. Were the Princes not taught any manners? What blasphemy! That should have been the thing they were taught the moment they first breathed.
“How do you know of me?”
Heart shoved the paper back into his hands, keeping the stick of charcoal with himself. Li Ming skimmed through the letters, ignoring the itch withering within him that screamed at him to snatch the charcoal back from Heart’s thieving claws. Alas, he settled for politely asking for it because, unlikesomepeople, he had grown up being taught basic manners.While jotting down his answer this time, his eyes kept flitting upwards, observing how messy and unkempt the Prince’s penmanship was.
The Palace could, indeed, do well with hiring Praew to teach its children.
“My uncle told me about you. Do you want to share a tangerine with me?”
Heart nodded at the mention of the fruit, a wide smile stretching itself across his lips.
✦
[December 1877]
Phra Nakhon
Dear H,
It’s December and I still miss you all the same. It’s December, and I still feel the phantom of your touch creep onto my being – akin to ivy, it leaves each pore of my skin weeping and bleeding a hideous scarlet.
Leng tells me Phra Nakhon has witnessed one of its coldest winters this year. I cannot make heads and tails of anything, however. I have been feeling rather incompetent these past few days. Praew tells me it is normal, and to be expected after everything that unraveled. I asked her the other day after dinner what she meant by that. Her words left me indignant, and I reckon, you know better than anyone else how I loathe feeling inferior.
The resulting anger, ironically so, left me more agitated. I have now learned that I despise feeling like a foolish man who runs around, asking for explanations and justifications for the words that have been spoken against his being.
The cold is unbearable on some odd nights here. Is it that way, too, in Siamara? If so, I hope you have been keeping yourself warm with enough quilts and cups of tea. Perhaps, you would also like to know that I have been leaving my chambers more often. The flowers outside are all dead, with wilted petals that have crumpled under the force of the changing cycle of life.
Winter is a bleak season, I suppose. The leaves are scarce, the flowers are withering for their lives, and the heart feels a little heavy, too. The sun filters through the window every morning and yet the harsh cold always seems to linger. On such mornings, I have started feeling the claws of loneliness scratch at each fiber of my being.
It is, thankfully, not a persistent feeling. Rather it hits me in abrupt fits and starts, on some Friday nights after supper or cold mornings like these. I do not wish to consider it a part of myself, but it has tangled itself so well around me that it seems as if I have grown another limb that always hovers over my neck, ready to strangle me the moment I let my head down.
Some day, I fear I will perish without ever etching my mark on humanity. I would die, I would vanish, and it would be a daily affair you would read over eggs in the morning. I let myself fall into the delusion sometimes that perhaps, you will grieve for me, and shed a tear or two.
But would you ever know of the times I wished for you to be here with me when I grieved my existence all alone, confined in a metal cage that would dig into my flesh each time I so much as breathed?
With Cordial Greetings,
L.
✦
[Age: 7]
“Ming? Have you been stealing papers from my inventory?”
Praew stopped him one early morning in the compound, crouching down to meet his eye. “No? What gave you the idea, Je?” He chuckled nervously, wringing his hands behind his back to hide the fresh paper he had ripped from one of her journals as there were no spare pieces of paper lying on her desk today.
“Let me see your hands, then. What are you hiding behind your back, hm?” She smiled as if she knew the answers to all the questions of the universe, taking hold of his shoulder. “‘S just a paper! I did not steal anything else, I swear!” He surrendered, at last, showing her the paper he had been hiding behind his back.
“Have you been making paper boats again?” She questioned, gently prying the paper from his hands. “I made a new friend! He is deaf, Je. And since I am still incompetent in communicating with a deaf being, we have been making use of papers and pencils.” He wrung his hands behind his back again out of pure trepidation, rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet.
Praew’s features softened at his words, a small smile taking over her face. “Can you wait here for me for a moment? I will be right back.”
Li Ming nodded, a little despondent now that she was truly going away with the piece of paper that would have marked his and Heart’s conversation for the day. He went to sit on the slab of marble that circumferenced the whole compound, playing with the ends of his tunic as he waited.
When Praew returned, she, too, had her hands hidden behind her back. Curious, Li Ming quickly got up from his seat, running up to meet her halfway across the compound. “This one, right here, is all yours.” She enunciated with an infectious smile, extending a thick, leather-bound journal towards him.
“Ask me for another one if you run out of pages. And henceforth, you mustn’t snoop through my belongings. Is that clear?” Though her words were sharp, the gentle smile still persistent on her face greatly belied the act of stoicism she was attempting to put forth.
“Yes, Je. Can I go now? You see, my friend must be out of his mind, worrying for me!”
As it turned out, Heart was indeed not worried about his whereabouts. If anything, he seemed overjoyed with being by himself! Oh, the sick and twisted horrors that persisted in the life of a human. How must one get past such a heartbreak? And to think, Li Ming had run all the way from his home to here only to see Heart plucking out wildflowers from their roots! As if his dearest friend hadn’t shown up sharply on the time they had agreed upon.
“Heart, you asshead! Why are you not worrying about my well-being, especially given my late arrival?”
He shoved the journal into Heart’s face after angrily scribbling down the words whilst standing a good distance away from Heart’s general line of vision. Heart’s eyes lit up upon seeing him, but Li Ming chose to ignore that. There were more important things to focus on at the moment. He would not be swayed by Heart’s eyes, of all things!
Hesitantly, Heart took the journal from his hands, biting into his lower lip as he read what was jotted down. A loud gasp fell from his lips the moment he was done reading, indignance written all over his face as he stood up to his full height.
“You are so foul-mouthed! Have you no shame?”
Heart shoved the journal into his stomach with equal ferocity, his eyes narrowed down into slits.
“I am not foul-mouthed. I did not speak that, I wrote that. Hence, your argument stands incorrect.”
Heart made a face while reading his response, rolling his eyes subsequently. His fury seemed dampened now as if he had more important things to tend to than Li Ming’s anger.
“You are so melodramatic. Where did you get the journal from?” Heart passed him the book before he let himself lie on his back, hands tugging at the blades of grass that surrounded them. Li Ming followed suit, obviously not wanting to be the last one standing.
The sky above them was so vast and open, a muted blue with sparse clouds speckled across its expanse. Turning to lie on his side, he ensured he had Heart’s attention before he began speaking. “Praew gave it to me.” He enunciated each syllable as he spoke, stuffing his conjoined hands below his cheek once he noticed Heart doing the same.
Heart nodded once to let him know he had understood him. Li Ming didn’t have a tangerine to share today; they had run out of those back at the compound, and so, they settled for watching the flimsy clouds float by in the sky before they would have to report to the academy for today’s classes.
✦
[April 1879]
Phra Nakhon
Dear H,
The summer is more unbearable than the winters here. I can tolerate the heat to some extent, however. How are things up north? I have heard a lot about Siamaran summers – and not many of them were on the pleasant side of things. And hence, I am writing this letter as a reminder for you to keep yourself fit and well in this intolerable weather.
Leng has been pestering me for eons, and thus, I have decided that I shall post this letter to your home in Siamara. It is, perhaps, because of the prospect of you reading this that I cannot write to my heart’s content.
These days though, I do admit writing has been a bit of a chore for me. I cannot write well, I cannot think well, too. It is as if the blue of the ink and the blues that I bear have an intermittent connection that gets conveyed by how often I bleed. I bleed words onto the paper, and the crimson of it is overpowered by the blues – of both the ink and the soul that harbors this rotting prison – more often than not.
Pardon me.
I apologize for the sudden influx of such foolish emotions.
I cannot. I am sorry. I don’t think I can do this.
✦
[Age: 7]
It was a warm afternoon when Li Ming finally stepped inside Heart’s house. The visit had been decided long ago though, with Heart’s chaperone, Wen, talking with his uncle yesterday evening after the training for the day had ended. Over the past few months, the two of them had grown extremely close to each other.
At the academy, too, Li Ming made sure to stick by Heart’s side most of the time to help him with things and ensure he wouldn’t hurt himself accidentally, despite the special treatment Heart was receiving from his uncle already. It was winter now, and thus, they couldn’t afford to easily sneak off into the woods when the mornings were extremely cold.
It was why Heart had suggested they meet at his house after almost a week of not seeing each other outside the academy.
The warm sunlight filtered in through the stained glass windows of the foyer, and Li Ming watched the distorted beams of the sun create shadows on the floor as he waited for Heart. He traced the shifting shapes with his eyes, heaving out a sigh when he grew tired of the activity.
He tried to peek into the hallways by standing on the tips of his toes, hastily getting back to his feet once he heard the sound of approaching footsteps. Sure enough, just a few moments later, Heart emerged from one of the many hallways that Li Ming could see from his vantage point.
Heart’s eyes, like always, lit up upon seeing him, the pace of his gait increasing before he was sprinting towards him. Li Ming’s face broke into a grin, his own excitement matching Heart’s as they reunited. Heart reached out and grasped his hand before Li Ming could even reach into his satchel and get his journal out.
Heart led him through the corridors of the estate, their footsteps echoing in the quiet solitude of the house. The gardens at the back of the property unfolded before them in a riot of fragrance and color when they finally got themselves out of the labyrinth of gilded corridors that were far too exorbitant for his taste.
Heart dragged him to a bed of red tulips, crouching down to pluck a flower without so much as a thought. He stood up just as quickly, turning around to offer Li Ming the flower. Nonplussed, he stared at Heart’s outstretched hand for a moment, unsure of what to make of Heart’s gesture. Was Heart offering him the flower? Or merely telling him to hold it for the time being?
Much to his surprise, however, Heart was staring back at him, his eyes brimming with amusem*nt. Heart tilted his head to the side then, seemingly prompting him to do something.
Li Ming hesitated for a moment before tentatively reaching out to accept the blossom. Heart smiled at him when he finally accepted the flower, a gentle smile that was wide enough that it reached his eyes. Without wasting another second, Heart started leading him along winding pathways and secluded alcoves. They paused beneath the canopy of a sprawling oak tree after miles and miles of walking, the tree's branches reaching out like welcoming arms.
Li Ming gazed up at the rustling leaves, the gentle breeze stirring the air and ruffling his hair. Beside him, Heart finally let go of his hand to go sit under the warm shade of the tree, patting the empty space beside him to beckon Li Ming over.
Li Ming sank down beside Heart, the warmth of the sun-dappled earth seeping into his bones. Heart wasted no time in rummaging through the satchel at his side, his movements brash and hasty. The rather discourteous action didn’t faze him at all, he had since long given up on the hope of ever meeting a member of the Royal Family who had even an iota of knowledge about basic etiquette.
“Do you like plum cakes? The cooks make it a lot back in my kingdom once winter starts. I also asked P’Wen to bring lots of tangerines for you in case you don’t like the cakes!”
The gentle rustle of the leaves overhead and the soft caress of the breeze against his skin filled Li Ming with a sense of tranquility he hadn’t even known he needed. Li Ming thought he could sit here for the rest of the day so long as he had Heart by his side to keep him company.
“Plum cakes aren’t a big thing here in Phra Nakhon. But I do love plums and cakes!”
Heart read over his words with a furrow persistent between his brows, his tongue poking out in concentration as he placed the journal on his bent legs to scrawl out another response.
“You will love them, don’t fret much. Do you want to join me in the library, perhaps? It might have those little poetries you love to talk about!”
Li Ming nodded his head at the suggestion, a large smile taking over his face at the prospect of getting to spend the whole afternoon with Heart. Perhaps, he could show Heart his favorite poems if he stumbled upon them incidentally!
